


Kiss Punch Drunk

by salvadore



Category: Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - All Media Types, Social Network (2010)
Genre: Comment Fic, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:10:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvadore/pseuds/salvadore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark's lips are red and bruised, raw in places where Lisbeth had bitten down too hard. (Lisbeth and Mark making-out.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Punch Drunk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liketogetlost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketogetlost/gifts).



> for the prompt: crossover - Lisbeth/Mark Zuckerberg - "you call that hacking?" on the salandersting prompt fest @ LJ

Mark's lips are red and bruised, raw in places where Lisbeth had bitten down too hard. They look swollen, and like it's a compulsion Mark's tongue keeps running along the wounded flesh, running back and forth when he isn't slipping his tongue along the lines of Lisbeth's lips or using it to trace the places where her lip piercing penetrates the flesh of her lip. 

And when Lisbeth pushes back from where she was leaning on her elbows, the weight of her bearing down on Mark's thin chest, she peers down at him from a hovering position with all of her weight on her hands and she can tell he is kiss-drunk. His eyes flicker as he tries to watch every feature of her face through half-lidded eyelids; struggling to try and open them wide and keep them that way. For a moment Lisbeth is staring down at blown pupils and a small ring of dark blue. Then his pupils shrink in the glare of the light, the blue of his eyes grow as he licks his lower lip. The blue is brighter, not glassy or drunk and liquid-like, but the sort of blue that challenges her to hack into his computer with the forewarning that he will hack her right back.

His eyelids slide back down to half mast. His fingers twitch at his sides, brushing her thighs, and his Adam's apple bobs so smoothly.

“Zuckerberg,” Lisbeth says, her accent smoothing some of the consonants out as she leans back down, her nose close to his.

“Salander,” he pants back at her. The fingers of his left hand run up to rest on her thigh. She doesn't remove them, but retaliates, placing her hand on top of his right and pushing until she has his arm above his head. Mark pants below her, chest heaving and stuttering. He's hard and his eyes are dark, but he doesn't arch up for her. There is only a breath's width between their lips but he stares as steadily back as he is able and Lisbeth rewards Mark with another kiss which he returns eagerly. The fingers at her thigh scramble to get a better grip and now he does arch, up into her. His tongue slides between her lips, along her loosely closed mouth until she let's him in.

She curls her fingers around the wrist she has pinned so her nails are brushing his skin but not biting into it. His mouth is warm and as they kiss Mark makes so much noise, moans and whimpers as he curls his tongue and traces the roof of Lisbeth's mouth. The noises send electric-like shivers running down her spin and pressing her hips to his to rock against him. Mark nips at her lower lip and Lisbeth bites back harder, retaliating while his lips threaten to pull into thin lines in the form of a smirk. That can't happen she thinks, because kissing him when he smirks is only fun when they are naked and she is in his lap, so she draws his lower lip out between her teeth before pulling back from him again.

Mark leans up and nips and sucks along the bone of her jaw.

They kiss like this for ages, though they have already been at it for an hour. Still clothed, and with the sheets of Lisbeth's bed down around Mark's ankles. Lisbeth let's Mark's wrist free so she can comb her fingers through his hair. It's already in a disarray, curls pulled straight and at angles. 

Mark's free hand slides down along the bed sheet, the sides of his hand brushing her thigh as it moves. Then he slips it up under Lisbeth's shirt to cup her shoulder blade. Lisbeth hums and feels Mark's teeth running along the side of her throat. Lisbeth pulls out of Mark's reach only to duck down and presses her lips to his again, this time controlling the kiss, while his long fingers press against the muscles in her back.


End file.
